Reawakening
by CloudStriker94
Summary: In the land of Lordran, strange things happen. In the middle of these occurrences, a hollow knight regains her sanity. She sets out to find the only person she thinks is left of her past.
1. Prologue

Suddenly, the world came back into existence. Who was I? Where was I? Confused, I looked around, weighed down by my heavy armor. A small black thing floated a few inches above the corpse of the knight in front of me. I reached out and everything came back. I had been a knight of Berenike who had been sent to find a cure for the undead curse. I had traveled with a small group, but we had split up to increase our chances of getting access to the city of Anor Londo. Then, nothing. I had no idea what had happened to me. If I had gone hollow, why was I conscious again? Was it that strange sprite in front of me? I carefully tried to pick it up, but it disintegrated, the particles flowing into my body, disregarding my steel armor. In an instance, more Memories returned. My past, my family, my friends, and most important, my name. Tirana. Our captain, the famous Black Iron Tarkus, had told me to stay behind to wait for our companions and lead them to the Fortress of Sen's, which we had found out to be the only way to access Anor Londo from this place. There may have been other paths in the distant past, but they are unknown and most likely withered away. I had waited for days, weeks, or maybe just hours. Time is weird in these lands. After some time, my spirit and determination withered away. Had the captain made it? And if so, why hadn't I heard from him? Had he maybe gone hollow? No. Not Black Iron Tarkus. Not the most renowned knight in the army of Berenike. He must have made it. And I knew I had to find him.

The corpse in front of me looked really bad, his skull and helmet crushed alike by the last heavy blow of my mace. It looked like I had killed the poor soul. Something in his pockets caught my attention. A small bottle, half-full of a faintly glowing liquid. Curiously I picked it up and examined the content. It didn't seem like the liquid was poisonous. I carefully took a small sip, before coughing in surprise as a surge of energy ran through my body. I felt injuries heal I didn't even notice I had suffered. Plus, even more memories returned. Of how the other children had always avoided me for my large figure. How I was the first woman to join the ranks of the Berenike Knights. How I became known as second in sheer strength only to Tarkus himself, despite never having fought any of my companions outside of sparring. I shook my head and looked around, searching for a clue where I was and what had happened to me. Other corpses were strewn over the large room, which seemed to be some kind of church. Their injuries didn't look like they could have come from my mace, so I assumed my victim had slewn these hollows. I remembered this church. The captain had ordered me to wait here. But how long has it been since then? Weeks? Months? Maybe even Centuries? I had to find him. So I lifted my massive shield and headed to the walkway into the older church, which had already been in ruins when I had first seen it. To enter Sen's Fortress and hopefully find my lost captain.


	2. Chapter 1

I banged my armored fist against the closed gate in frustration. Of course it didn't move, just like the hundreds of times before. The iron bars were thicker than my shield and even with my great strength I couldn't even dent them. Reluctantly, I turned around. There had to be an other way into the fortress. When I returned to the basement of the ruined church. There, I heard something I hadn't noticed before: The sound of steel hitting steel. It came from the set of stairs leading even further down that I hadn't yet looked into. I was curious, but also wary, taught by the things Lordran had thrown at me so far. Gripping my mace tightly and raising my shield, I proceeded down the set of wooden stairs. The half-decayed planks creaked under the considerable weight of my armor, but I was positive they wouldn't give way. I approached the source of the noise, expecting a blow against my shield at any time, then confusedly stopped when nothing happened. I lowered my shield just enough to peek over its upper edge and saw a man in his early sixties, holding a heavy blacksmiths hammer in both hands. I let out the breath I hadn't noticed I has been holding and lowered my shield. The man relaxed in a similar manner.

"Well, hello. I haven't seen someone with his mind intact for a long time. I am Andre of Astora. "

I surveyed him closely. Despite his obvious age he was in a good physical shape and his bare torso didn't leave any doubt he would be able to stand his ground in a fight. His shrubby beard covered about half his face, and said face showed no sign of fear despite my heavy armor and weaponry.

"...Tirana of Berenike. Say, have you seen someone in armor similar to mine, but not quite the same?"

He thought for a while, before he nodded sullenly. "I have. He entered the fortress, the gates closing behind him. Haven't heard or seen anything of him after. No big surprise, nobody has ever made it out of there alive." Grinning, he set his hammer down next to his large anvil. "So, will you buy anything or am I wasting my time?"

That caught me dumbfounded. I blinked and then grinned sheepishly. "Well, I don't have any money, so..."

With a laugh, he waved his hand and shook his head. "The currency in these lands is neither gold nor gems, but souls. You will have quite a few of them on you with these weapons."

Now it was my turn to shake my head. "I have no idea what you mean. I am only looking for my captain. And to find him, I have to get into Sen's Fortress. And I will find him, by the name of the firstborn!"

That seemed to surprise him. He smiled, weighing his hammer in his hands. "At least let me patch up your armor. In the meantime, I'll tell you what I know. It isn't much, and most of it is just some kind of prophecy, but maybe it helps you."

I nodded and started to get out of my armor. After removing the breastplate, I turned bright red. No matter how long I had been hollow, it had been long enough for my clothes to rot away. I was completely naked under my armor. The blacksmith seemed to notice and gave me some old rags that I slung around my breasts to cover them. The same procedure followed with my rump. He eyed me for a moment, but without any hidden thoughts as it seemed.

"Well, you have quite an impressive frame for a woman. But that is expectable, considering the ease with which you move in that armor." He seemed genuinely impressed and more interested in my muscles than my female parts. "If you weren't on a mission, I'd really appreciate you to lend me a hand once in a while. You could make a decent blacksmith if I dare say."

I smiled and nodded. I had in fact worked in a forge for some months before joining the military. "You may not be completely wrong", I replied. He laughed and lifted the thick breastplate of my armor, weighing it with visible routine and experience.

"That may take some time, so better make thyself comfortable. There's a bonfire above, you may want to refill your flask there."

I looked at him in confusion. "Bonfire? Flask? What do you mean?"

He laughed and shook his head. "Come", he said, "I'll show you." with these words, Andre got up and took his heavy smithing hammer, which in his hands doubtlessly was a weapon as much as a tool. I stood up and followed him, amazed by the feeling of lightness that came from shedding my armor. I had my mace slung over my shoulder. Up on the stairs, he showed me what seemed to be a normal fireplace, but something about it seemed off. It took me a while to realize that the wooden floor didn't burn and wasn't even slightly scorched. On closer examination, the firewood wasn't wood at all, but a pile of bones, with a shortsword stuck in the middle. The flames licked over the bones lazily, and somehow I felt myself drawn to them. The blacksmith sat down next to the fire and I did the same. In a split second, I felt a mist lifting from my mind I hadn't even noticed. He looked at me and smiled. He looked... younger. Then he took out a small bottle, similar to the one I had taken from the knight I had slain. Without hesitating, he reached into the flames with his hands, and the fire didn't burn him at all. Instead, the liquid in the bottle began to glow brighter and the bottle filled more and more. When it was almost full, he put the cork back onto it and showed it to me.

"This is an Estus Flask", he said, "No one knows exactly what it is or does, but it helps keep the hollowing at bay and even heals our wounds." I nodded and took out my own flask, hesitating for a moment before I held it into the fire. It felt warm, but not unbearable so. I felt a shiver run through my arm and saw how the dried skin became smoother again, just as it had been before I became undead.

Andre waited patiently, before he got up and walked back down the stairs to his small workshop. "And now let me tell you what the land of Astora thinks to know about the undead curse."

He cleared his throat and began working on my armor while he started talking again. "In the Age of Ancients the world was unformed, shrouded by fog. A land of gray crags, Archtrees and Everlasting Dragons. But then there was Fire and with fire came disparity..."


End file.
